Part Two.....Drain is Gone!!

Meg put it best: Ding Dong the Drain is Gone, The Wicked Drain...faa laa laa....

Regrettably, the Drain is considered biohazardous waste and I was not allowed to take it with me. Ahhhh, the best laid plans.

Seeing as I am such a secretive and mysterious type, I cannot resist sharing some details. Big surprise.

The lovely Meredith accompanied me to the drain removing party. She watched the festivities from the front row. The doctor quizzed me, ensuring that I was at the acceptable drainage level. I am pleased to say that I didn't have to fudge the numbers at all. And, believe me, over the last week I've been tempted!

First, she had to "milk the drain." This consists of holding onto it with both hands and pulling on it like I was Bessie. Or, back in college playing intramural tug-o-war. Black dots swam before my eyes and the room became very hot. She reclined me back on the table. I'm not sure if that is standard procedure or if she worried I was going to faint. Either way, it helped.

Milking took a while. One tug was so intense that my left leg kicked up involuntarily, like a marionette. Good to know that the right side is connected to the left leg. I hope never to discover if the opposite is true. Meredith later told me that she almost flew to my aid. I guess the milking looked as bad as it felt.

After I was sufficiently "milked," she removed the drain. She then showed me about 4inches of tubing that had been inside me, above the sutures. Did I mention that this thing was stitched in to me? FOUR inches of tube! I almost tossed my cookies at that. It was gross enough seeing the drain that hung around for 12 days, much less the inside view.

Meredith than took the scenic route down Torrey Pines to the beach. I love that stretch of road: dramatic cliffs, crashing waves, fertile marshland. She then walked me. Wait! No! She did not walk me! I walked myself!!! With her. While wearing a tank top. No jacket required. Amazing! Magical!

It has been 7 hours. I think it will take a few days for me to feel free.

Teaching in the morning. The first step to feeling free.